Occultation
by nagandsev
Summary: Hermione goes to Xenophilius' art gallery opening. How could Occultation not occur?


Occultation by nagandsev Chapter One: The Gallery

Summary: Hermione goes to Xenophilius' art gallery opening. How could Occultation not occur?

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, and all characters within it, belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story, just pure recreation.:-)

A/N: Written as a piece of midsummer madness fluff, sort of, and for Rhys Ifans fans. My greatest thanks to karelia for her precious time and beta work! *mwah*

* * *

* X *

Xenophilius saw her from across the gallery's high domed room. He was struck by something utterly unexpected. He found he could not help himself and kept admiring the golden glow emanating from her. The way the light fell upon her gentle features and soft curls, framing her large brown eyes that sparkled liked the stars in the heavens, was a marvel.

* H *

"When are we going to blow this place?" asked Ron, rolling his eyes. Hermione heard his stomach growl and immediately understood his more than usual impatience at not wanting to linger any longer than necessary at the gallery opening.

She gave a swift look around through the crowd, taking in all the sculptures, inventions and paintings she wished she could observe and study in peace without the constant nagging to leave every other minute.

"Ron, just a few more minutes. I promised Luna we'd stop by. Her father's work being seen by her friends means a lot to her... and I'm sure to him as well. In all fairness, he's quite good. It'd be rude to leave so soon." She caught sight of an extraordinarily unusual sculpture piece across the room in a corner. There seemed to be a shimmering shield of sorts surrounding it. Whenever someone came very close to it, an instant darkness eclipsed one's view, completely concealing the art object and the person in its vicinity. She almost giggled as she saw a couple try to penetrate the darkness that someone else was already enclosed by—they were instantly repelled, bounced back as if from a rubber wall.

_What clever charm work_, thought Hermione, smiling. _Ravenclaws!_ She felt compelled to get closer.

"Isn't there supposed to be, um, finger food, dished out by elves or such?" Ron gave her a grumpy look. "I mean, the invite said _food_ would be served—hors d'oeuvres, right?"

"Really, _Ronald_," snapped Hermione, unable to hide her irritation any longer. "Could you just go see what's in the adjoining room—I believe refreshments are being served there, separate from the art work." She gave him her best stubborn look. "Wouldn't want to get mustard or butterbeer on things, yes?"

She saw him hesitate and said, "Look, go eat something and socialise—I think I saw Harry and Ginny go there." She touched his arm. "I'd like at least half an hour to take my time and look at things. Then, we'll leave."

His shoulders relaxed and he agreed. "Fine, I'll go and, um, mingle." He gave a wary, bored look around. "Better yet, when you've finished trying to figure out all of this loony stuff, come get me." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Take your time."

Hermione watched Ron beeline for the reception room and caught sight of a grateful Harry clapping him on the shoulder and handing him a drink. She sighed heavily. _Well, at least I can now enjoy things without being hurried._

Relaxing, she meandered around the crowded room, stopping here and there to greet others briefly, but mostly she immersed herself in drinking in and appreciating each and every one of the pieces on display. She smiled to herself at some of the titles: _Passage of Celestial Wanderings, Hebridean Hallows, Runespoor Continuum_. The accompanying art work was cryptic and intriguing, the colours vibrant and effervescent, the forms and strokes angular and layered. _So intricate... and complex..._

But others caused her to have a poignant reaction: _Hibiscus' Lullaby, Luna's Teardrops, Longings for Yesteryear. _These creations were abstract and mysterious forms, ovular and flowing. _They evoke a sadness and a yearning for... something._

She looked around for what to look at next, feeling in a state of bliss, enjoying being able to reflect on Xenophilius' esoteric creations in peace. _I'd love to discuss his works with him one day. Maybe Luna can arrange for us to get together?_ She frowned, remembering that Luna told her her father still preferred seclusion, the effects of the war years still causing him to keep himself shut off from the world. "But Rolf and I are hoping that by having this art opening for him, it will help break him out of his shell a bit. Maybe even get him to go back to publishing. One step at a time," Luna had explained, beaming.

_His art work is much more impressive!_ _It's whimsical like some of what he published but with a lot of raw emotion..._ Hermione eagerly made her way over to the corner to the particular sculpture that had caught her attention earlier.

It was entitled _Concealment_.

Even though she was strongly drawn to it, she hesitated and stood back, outside of the charms ring, and observed it from a distant viewpoint. However, she became further mesmerised the longer she gazed at the elongated curves and grooves, the selectively placed, carved openings, allowing one to peer through, into an inner space filled with smaller unusual shaped figures. _The slopes are so subtle and yet so strong, so... bold, _she thoughtluxuriantly, lost in the moment.

"For broadening one's tactile awareness. Elevating one's mind."

The comment snapped her out of her pleasurable contemplation. She looked around and found herself staring up into silver-grey eyes.

_Xenophilius!_

She took a second to register his stylish, albeit eccentric, apparel. _Well, he is a handsome man—he can wear anything and get away with it! _

She smiled, noting,_ He's so tall and spare._ _As dapper as ever, like at Bill and Fleur's wedding so long ago. _ She was glad Luna's father had recovered from the war so well. No after effects of his time in Azkaban or the torture from Death Eaters seemed to be lingering on and outwardly affecting him.

Xenophilius cordially pointed out, "It's a haptic creation for a fuller sensory experience. It is made to be touched."

"Oh."

She didn't know why, but she could feel her face grow warm, blushing.

"Mr Lovegood," she offered her hand in congratulations, "It's wonderful. The exhibit. So happy that you've found your niche in the visual arts and shared it with us." She gestured her hand around. "Your inventions—I don't quite understand them all, but each creation evokes some reaction in me."

"Art does tend to do that to one, doesn't it?" He raised an observant eyebrow. "And yet, it is an absolutism that at times, fleeting golden moments of our lives, such as now, one can never quite capture an intangible beauty that one is beholding before them, an extraordinary life force in all its glorious form."

Xenophilius was giving her a look of ardent admiration. Hermione felt an odd tingle pulse through her.

"Come with me, Miss Granger." Xenophilius motioned for them to go closer to the sculpture. They stepped towards it, and the charms instantly enclosed them in their own darkened little cubby hole of a space to privately view and experience the artwork.

"Impressive charms." Hermione smiled.

"A kind of child's play," quipped Xenophilius, who smiled back, "but it pleases me that you are pleased, Miss Granger. As I am one of your many admirers."

"Mr Lovegood?"

"I may prefer the cloistered world of books and art, but I keep myself informed on the goings on and your work in the Ministry, fighting for the rights of house-elves—most admirable, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt her cheeks burning red, but whether it was from his honest directness or from her own fleeting misunderstanding, thinking that he had meant he was attracted to her, caused her to stare at the sculpture, unable to say anything.

As they stood right beside the piece, so snug in the corner, she felt a sense of concentration and excitement come over her.

"Touch it," instructed Xenophilius softly.

He was so close to her. She could smell his masculine scent mixed with a light mint fragrance. Her favourite. She suddenly thought of peppermint sticks, of licking one, and for some reason, she felt herself grow flush in waves of tingling heat.

Xenophilius moved to a little behind her and asked, "If you'd like, if you'd trust me, close your eyes and let me guide your hand. For the full experience."

She tilted her head back to look up at him and felt herself feel warm all over and an unknown ache burst forth in her chest. The thought of trusting him in this situation puzzled her. Made her curious. She gave in to her curiosity.

She nodded in assent, unable to speak, and as she felt his long, strong fingers tentatively take her hand and guide it to the sculpted form, she closed her eyes.

As their warm flesh, intertwined together, met cool stone, she gasped. It wasn't only the incredible sensation of seeing darkness but feeling fire and ice, the pulsation of his hand on hers, gliding slowly over curved, hard form, titillating edges, cool space, then hardness and flow of form again caused her heart to thump hard and fast. The feeling of body heat from his firm and tall form encompassing her didn't help matters. Her heart raced even more.

She felt him nestle up against her, her back instinctively pressed into his torso, his arms wrapped supportively around her, placing her other hand to hold on to another part of the sculpture.

"Now," he whispered in a low a voice, "the abyss. Don't look. Feel. Plunge on in."

Her other hand went from stroking upwards to falling through an open space. She felt herself tilt and lost her balance, twisting, her eyes flashed open as she grabbed blindly for something concrete to hold onto.

"It's all right. I'm here. I have you. Safe and steady."

She was panting, realizing she was grasping Xenophilius as if for life.

She glanced at the sculpture and then looked him in the eyes, really looked at him. He held her gaze, and they both seemed to be waiting for the other to speak first.

Hermione didn't speak. But she touched. She touched him.

Her fingertips ever so lightly brushed over his forehead, his nose, high cheek bones and then over his firmly set lips down to his chin. She felt the slight stubble that led to his sideburns and then his flossy hair. _He's so beautful... so handsome. So different..._

She stopped suddenly and took a step back, feeling slightly dizzy.

She didn't know what to say. How to excuse her actions, a part of her stubbornly not wanting to.

Xenophilius had straightened up to his full height and was watching her with a curious look.

He gestured back at the sculpture before them. "I hope it was a new experience for you. A pleasant one."

She was still at a loss of what to say. Something irrational had taken over her. She had a wild sensation of wanting to touch him again. Kiss him. Nuzzle him silly.

"It was," she heard herself saying, "A very pleasant experience."

Inexplicably, she added, "Thank you." And then she found herself slowly backing away from him, feeling she needed air. Fresh air. Immediately.

She made her way out of the charm's perimeter, and through the crowd, giving a look back at Xeno, who was attempting to follow her but was being stopped every two feet by others wishing to congratulate him.

She blindly flew by the crowded reception room, the smell of spirits and delicacies wafting through the air, and out the main doors into the night.

Gulping in the coolness, she gazed upwards into the dark sky.

The stars were twinkling intensely above her.

* H *


End file.
